


sweetheart, i swear to god that i can find galaxies in the gaps between your lips.

by weaslayyy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 23:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5559221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaslayyy/pseuds/weaslayyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Lily and the eight snapshots of a life they could have had, if it hadn't been for that whole magic thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweetheart, i swear to god that i can find galaxies in the gaps between your lips.

 

> 01: “I’m sorry.

James looks down at his shirt, at the stain of her coffee that’s bleeding throughout the fabric. He’s officially twenty minutes late to court, has missed the beginning of the courtroom proceedings for the most important solve of his life, and is undoubtedly about to be fired the second he manages to get through the doors.

He glances up and notices her hair first, how it hangs over her right shoulder, how strands are escaping the confines of her braid. Everything about her in that moment is red: her hair, her skin, the varnish on her nails. She looks absolutely mortified, keeps opening and closing her mouth as she tries to force out an apology for ruining what he knows will appear to be an extremely expensive suit.

He checks his watch again, then stares at her once more. She has green eyes, the same color as those jade necklaces Sirius brought back from China, the ones he insisted were good luck.

“I’m sorry,” she finally stammers. “Really really sorry, look I swear I’ll pay for everything, or well it all looks to be incredibly outside of my price range but I’ll figure it out, alright? I don’t have a lot of money, but I’m sure I can gather enough to pay for your tie, if maybe not the rest of the suit.” Her face is getting even redder than before, and James swears he’s never been more endeared in his life. He makes a decision.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “It’s fine. Never liked the bloody suit anyway, it doesn’t particularly go with my complexion, you know?” She looks incredulous, and James sighs. “Alright, so it was my very favorite suit, but it’s not a problem.”

He smiles, and takes off his jacket, folding it over his left arm. “My name is James Potter. I’m probably going to be fired today. Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

 

 

> 02: “I think I’m in love with you and that scares the hell out of me.”

“Hey Lily, it’s James. I know you’re on the night shift saving the world one small child at a time and all, but I just had to say this, alright? I was making dinner tonight, and I missed you, you know? Like a lot, a ton and it was like there was a Lily shaped gap in my kitchen which is really stupid considering you’re an awful cook and I’d never have you in the kitchen but whatever it doesn’t matter. The point is that I missed you terribly, and I was trying to figure out _why_ and I just...I....Lily I’m trying to say that I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the hell out of me. Fuck I don’t know when this message is going to run out, but I just...you’re amazing, you know? And I think about you all the time, and not like in a creepy way but like what you might want for lunch, or what you’d say about the bloke who was wearing neon orange in the Tube...I just imagine all these little ways you fit into my life, and it scares me a little, but then I think about you and I’m not really scared anymore, you know? I love you Evans, and fuck this probably wasn’t the way you wanted to find out right? Fuck I need to stop talking I’ll hang up now, fuck fuck fuck--”

 

> 03: “I almost lost you.”

Lily runs into the police station, sees James  hiding in the breakroom in order to avoid the press, and she immediately bursts into tears. His clothes are a little worse for wear, torn in places that aren’t bloody, bloody in places that aren’t torn. His glasses are lopsided, his hair’s a mess. There’s a bit of grime on his cheek, and a bruise is developing around his left eye.

He’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, she thinks hysterically. James realizes that the screaming banshee is in fact his girlfriend and runs over, taking her into his arms as he runs his hands up and down her back. He’s muttering nonsense into her hair, reassurances that ring hollow considering where he was a few hours ago.

She hasn’t been able to breathe since that awful first moment when she realized that the Detective taken hostage was someone she recognized, a man that she loved. The reports talk about a city come to a standstill, but nothing can compare to the way she felt the world pause around her. It was as if time had ceased to have meaning anymore, a temporal rebellion to the possibility of a world that might no longer include James Potter.

She couldn’t cry, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak except to scream. She just stood and watched, eyes glued to the screen for the hours (millennia) between the initial report, and the Chief of Police informing the public that everything was fine, that everyone involved was fine.

 _He’s fine_ , James says. For now. _Everything will be alright_ , James insists. Until it isn’t.

“I almost lost you,” she chokes out. “I almost lost you, and I never would have said it, and--”

She kisses him, trying to fill up time so that she can gather her nerves. About three hours ago she’d made a bargain with God, a promise that if James made it out alright she would ask him the questions she’s been avoiding for all of these months. He says he’s fine, and so it’s time for Lily to fulfill her end of the deal.

She takes a deep breath, leans her forehead against his and whispers the question into the gap between their lips.

“Move in with me?” she asks. “I have 300 cable channels I’ve been splicing from the neighbor.”

He laughs, loud and hard. “Well how could I possibly refuse an offer like that?”

 

> 04: “Do you trust me?”

They’re arguing over ice cream flavors again: Lily wants to experiment with their shared sundae while James wants to stick with the classics. Two separate bowls never really occurs to them.

It’s the same argument they’ve been having since before they got together, a clash of sensibilities towards the frozen milk-based desserts they stick into their mouths. Lily is brandishing the flavor of the week from the Farmer’s Market, a particularly seasonal blood orange while James is shoving his standard vanilla right back in her face.

They’re yelling, but the noise is smooth inside of well worn grooves. They know how to move inside the limits of this dance, and they do it so masterfully, too. Eventually, Lily gets tired: she just wants to eat her damn ice cream, and she _knows_ that James would like it if he just had a taste.

She opens the carton, grabs a spoon and asks him the million dollar question. “Do you trust me?”

He gasps, affronted. “Of course I bloody do Evans, what I don’t trust is your taste in fine milk based goo--”

Lily smiles at the spoon she’s shoved into his mouth, watches as he closes his mouth over the Blood Orange and tries to keep the pleasure off of his face.

“Told you it was good,” she says with satisfaction. “I was right, wasn’t I?” James makes a face, pulls out the spoon and licks the last vestiges.

“You always bloody are,” he grumbles, before shoving the spoon back into the carton and taking another bite.

 

 

> 05: “Please don’t do this.”

James hears her walk in, but he can’t muster up the energy to look up. His entire universe has been reduced to the spot on the carpet he can see with his head in between his knees, the gaps between his gasps, the tears he can’t stop from running down his cheeks.

“Please don’t do this,” she says, and he can hear that she means it. Lily has always supported him in this aspect of his job, hates the Death Eaters even more than he does, but right now she doesn’t want him to leave. It cuts him a little, a punch to the stomach he hadn’t been expecting. He hadn’t realized how hard it would be to say goodbye to her, to get up and give her a hug and then walk into Malfoy Manor to convince Tom Riddle that he’d switched sides.

He still can’t bring himself to raise his head, and he flinches when she sits next to him and puts her hand on his back. James promises that he’ll remember this when Lucius Malfoy gives him a gun, when he’s forced to kill or be killed. He’ll remember that last moment when Lily Evans sat next to him before he sold his soul in order to implode the Death Eaters from the inside.

“Please don’t do this,” she says again. “James. _Please_.”

He needs to go. But before that, he needs to look at Lily. He turns towards her and takes one of her hands in his right, brushes her hair behind her ear with his left. He leans his forehead against her, brushing a kiss right above her lips. If James could have one wish granted, it would be to live in this one moment until time stopped, to wallow in the space of these 30 seconds with Lily until the galaxy spun itself into oblivion.

The timer on his phone goes off, and he gets up. Lily’s eyes widen, and his heart breaks a little at the sheen he sees in the corners.

“Please don’t do this,” she whispers one last time. James turns around, and leaves the apartment.

 

 

> 06: “Marry me.”

James has been leaving these little notes for a year, post its that he lovingly presses into corners of their home together. Each one of them is a question, though he phrases some of them like statements.

 _Marry Me_ , one says. _Love me forever and ever and everrrrr_ , says another. She finds them, peels them off and slips them into a drawer without leaving an answer. He never seems to expect one, just puts them up on days he knows to be bad. They’re affirmations, a reminder that he loves her, that he wants to stay with her for the rest of their lives.

Lily doesn’t know if she wants to get married, but lately there have been images she can’t shake, of bowties and three-tier cakes, of long dresses and champagne. There’s something about a wedding that makes a relationship feel permanent, something about the weight of a ring that forges a type of solidity between people who love one another.

A few days later, she leaves a post it note of her own.

 _Yes_.

 

 

> 07: “You’re amazing.”

James can’t quite believe that she’s here: that Lily Evans is standing in the middle of his family home, surrounded by pretentious blue bloods she loathes in a dress she probably despises, that Lily came to bloody Wales for him.

He’s never been happier to see her in his entire life. He sees her fidget in the doorway, pick at the hem of her black dress before he jumps into action. He strides towards her, grabs her by the elbow and makes his way to the stairs, switching his grip to her hand while he pulls her up to his bedroom. He closes the door, locks it and moves to the bed. He stops.

Lily takes a seat on the bedspread, smoothes out her skirt and looks up at him through her eyelashes. She pats the area next to her, and watches as he sits, grabbing her hand immediately and squeezing tight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she starts. He doesn’t give her a chance to finish.

“You’re here,” he says. “How can you be right here?” She looks at him, features soft as she brings her hand up to trace the line of his nose, the edges of his cheekbones. He closes his eyes.

“You need me, don’t you?” He nods, because he doesn’t think he understood need until he had to face his father’s funeral without her by his side. He takes a stuttering breath, and then another, and then one more before he’s crying, letting out all of the sobs he’s been forcing down into his socks for the last week. James has been organizing funerals and taking up mantles of power and prestige, talking to newspapers and calling estranged relations. James hasn’t had a moment to himself since the passing of his father, until now.

Lily pushes him gently, moving until they’re both lying on the bed together, with James’ chin soldered into the hollow of her neck as he weeps. Lily starts humming, and she traces shapes on the back of his jacket in time with the lyrics as he lets all the grief that’s been clogging his veins bleed out of his eyes.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers an hour later, after all that’s left is the tracks of salt. She smiles against his hairline, and kisses him softly.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she replies. “I wouldn’t come all the way to Wales for anybody, you know.”

 

 

> 08: “Don’t lie to me.”

When Lily walks into their apartment, the first thing she notices is the dog. Big, black and shaggy, Lily has to blink a couple times before she finds James, cowering in the corner. She puts her hands on her hips, and James winces.  
“Do you want to even try explaining what this is?” She raises an eyebrow, and starts tapping her foot.

James walks a little out of the corner, spreads his arms and whimpers. “Nooo? Not really?”

Lily huffs. “Try again.”

“I swear Lily, I have no idea what this is,” he starts. “Is it a dog? Is it a bear? Is it a wolf?” He gasps. “Is it a were-wolf? Lily you have to call animal control we might have a _were-wolf_ in our apartment!”

Lily narrows her eyes. “Don’t lie to me, James Potter. I have been on my feet for over 12 hours. Now tell me. Why. Is. There. A. Dog. _Inmylivingroom._ ”

“Well technically Lily dearest, it's our--no you’re right it's your living room I just live here and pay rent and cook, and....the dog belongs to Sirius, he found it on the road but his landlady doesn’t like pets and I promised we could take care of him until Sirius manages to convince Mrs. Figg and...” James peters off. Lily takes a deep breath, inhales and exhales like she was taught in that one yoga class she took for stress management.

Strange how most of those techniques were meant to be used on the job, not in the home. She looks at the dog, who seems to have realized that his future depends on looking as adorable as possible. He’s wagging his tail and approached her. She pets his fur, notices how fluffy it is and combs her fingers through a few times before patting him on the head one last time.

“What’s his name?” she asks. James blinks a few times before grinning, bounding across the room and kissing her soundly on the lips.

“Padfoot,” he says. “Padfoot Evans-Potter, until Sirius manages to take back the poor sod. Imagine having to live with Sirius Black everyday.” Lily manages not to mention that he did, for seven years.

“Padfoot Evans-Potter,” she says instead. “I like it.” He looks at her, suddenly serious.

“Evans-Potter has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?” he says lightly, his tone belied by the look in his eyes. It’s been a long shift, 12 hours that Lily can feel clinging to her clothes. She leans her head on his shoulder.

“I think it does, yeah.” She smiles, and then adds. “Wouldn’t mind it myself, if you asked me.”

**Author's Note:**

> yay aus! if you have any feedback on this, please leave it in the comments :) thanks for reading!


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